Unraveling the past that led to the present
by Kuroi Tori
Summary: A story about the past of Aya Nightwind, First lady of the Diego-Rezinov Faction. How her trials of the past, led to her domination of the present.


Within the hands of the Armed Forces, Aya suffered the fate of a tragic accident during a police chase with a gang better known as the Fatal Fangs. It ended with her car overturning on the highway, slamming into six cars, and followed by a cyclist plowing into her side door. The possibility of survival was very small as she lay just two weeks in a hospital's bed. Endlessly, she slipped in and out of a coma. Residing in the hospital [Mount Sinai] for a little over 6 months, she finally came through, but not as she was when she first went there. The doctors explained to the head chief of her condition "Stable but named as an amnesiac." Chief Carro, announced to the league a short time later that she was unfit for police work and she would leave with a year's salary.   
  
"One of our top colleagues," He started, mumbling half-heartedly with a cigarette in the corner of his mouth. He tried to remain as strong as he could, but faltered when speaking.   
  
"She…" He lit the cig with a cyan lighter then moved to wipe his forehead with a small cloth.   
  
"She was one of the best, but she must go when she recovers." He looked around the room at all of the faces. " The doctor went ahead and explained her condition and I know you all are eager to know the outcome. She is an amnesiac. She won't be liable to remember you or this life." Chief Carro glanced around the room at all of the perplexed faces once more He noticed those who leaned forward to wipe a hand over their astounded faces, and those who shook their heads in disbelief. He watched as some had their eyes resting on the carpet of the conference room. He lifted his hazel eyes across the room to a raised hand. Torrin Campbell, It was. Aya's top priority. She could always depend on him when she needed him.  
  
"Who will help her regain this memory? And if she decides to come back, would you allow her to?" Torrin asked. Torrin was a well-built man. No taller than 5'8 and he fit well into that uniform of blue. He held jet-black hair into a ponytail. Gray eyes defined the meaning of power within his stare, even when it was unintentional. He was a great partner to Aya, and he knew it.  
  
The chief took a moment to inhale from his cig, hesitated, and then exhaled streams of smoke into the air. "If she were to come back, I can't let her do that. She's already lost too much as it is. Her father and her life. I wouldn't let her within 50 yards of this goddamn place. And as far as her memory retrieval goes, a personal doctor would assist with that."  
  
Torrin once again raised his hand. "Would the doctor remind her of her position on the force?" The chief shook his head. "I asked that he wouldn't. Not a single indication of working with us. She must start a new; she can't live as she has. I can't allow it." A low murmur began within the room about Aya. Questions soon sparked and many hands were raised. Chief Carro raised the cloth to his forehead once again and blotted the forming sweat.  
  
Meanwhile, Aya lays within the ICU [Intensive Care Unit]. The EKG's reading kept beeping in sync with each heartbeat of hers. Her eyes were closed, each arm to her sides with a white sheet pulled to her chest. The respirator moved up and down, helping her breaths of air be taken in, as it should. Within the corner of the room a figure sat. A Bible rested in one hand, and a cross in the other. A prayer or two was given out loud. Aya moaned and her eyes squeezed tight as she turned to the opposite direction. She heard a sultry voice speak and slowly her eyes began to open. Through the dark void she stared at this figure. She noticed a pair of lips moving and gray optics that stared back at her. She listened as the prayer began to fade and watched as this silhouette came to a stance. The hand holding the cross was kept upward letting the symbol swing with each movement. The hand with the good book was lowered to its side, a thumb going across the indent of a cross along the leather cover.   
  
She watched as it stepped toward her, toward the light. She struggled to get a better glimpse of the 6'2" frame. Green eyes stared up at this man. A man around the mid 40's stood over her. Although age had taken him, he remained quite handsome. Still looking as though he'd been trapped within his youth. His lips spread into a fond smile to answer her distant stare upon him.  
  
"Aya…" His voice wavered between inaudible and projectile. She didn't move but listened, looking him over as he placed his shaking hand to her temple to guide stray bangs from her eyes. "Aya, Do you remember me? I'm your father. It's me, Michael."  
  
Silence answered back accompanied by that same distant stare. "…Aya. I.."   
  
Her expression changed as she saw this man bring tears before her. A struggling hand of hers was lifted up from beneath the bed sheets to one of his hands. She squeezed it gently and forced a smile to appear. She pulled his hand down into hers, motioning for him to come closer. And so he did. Her lips parted but no words were able to escape. She struggled at times to speak; only able to get simple words out for him to hear, and even at times, that didn't help him at all.  
  
Her eyes widened and a lingering hesitation took a hold of her. Michael leaned back a bit watching Aya as she slowly fell back against the bed, her hand slipping from his. "Aya!" He leaned over her, taking her hand in his, covering it with his other. The EKG began to simultaneously beep into a constant flat line. Aya rested limp against the soft pillows, her hair shrouded her shoulders and forehead giving shadow to closed eyes.   
  
A nurse rushed into the room, ordering the visitor to leave the room as doctors began pouring in through the doorway. Michael resisted. He insisted that he stay beside her, but the doctors were not up for distractions. They had a life to save at the moment. Michael cried out over the loud chattering of the doctors and nurses crowding Aya's bedside. "Aya! Aya!" he yelled, being carried away from the bed and room.  
  
The last thing Michael could see as he was being taken away was the nurse screaming, "clear!" as the doctor rubbed the paddles together to gather an electric shock. The first attempt gave no response as Aya's lifeless body fell back against the bed. The head doctor turned to the EKG monitor.   
  
"okay! get me up to two hundred and fifty volts!" Through the window, he watched as Aya's body jumped upon contact with the second shock and then fell back against the pillows. "Aya!"  
  
"Nothing!" a nurse yelled, checking the heart monitor.  
  
"Give me three hundred! Set! Clear!" Aya's body jerked again.   
  
"No response, Doctor." The nurse cried out again.   
  
"Come on! Don't quit on me now!" The doctor yelled.  
  
"Give her a shot of Adrenaline to the heart! Hurry!"   
  
"There's no response at all." The resident reported looking over to the frustrated doctor.   
  
"Do you want to call it?"  
  
"No!" he snapped. The doctor then turned to the patient.   
  
"Dear God, don't you die on me!" He yelled, pounding his fists to her chest. Even so no response came.  
  
"But sir, we've lost her--."   
  
"Quiet!" The doctor voiced.   
  
"400 volts. Set and Clear." he ordered.   
  
"Sir?--"   
  
"Just do it!" The resident nodded, turning to the paddles.   
  
"Clear!" Silence crowded the room as they watched her body fall back against the pillows. One doctor flashed a light in her eyes.   
  
"Eyes are back, sir." The Doctor nodded to him. The resident shook her head.   
  
"No response sir. You must call it." The doctor angrily jerked off his mask and hat. "Time of death, 9:42pm."  
  
"No!" Michael yelled, desperately trying to push past the three doctors.   
  
"Dear, God!" Still, he held that cross in one hand and the Bible in the other.   
  
"She was trying to tell me something! I must talk to my daughter!" The doctors held him back even further, now pressuring him into the only room they thought fit for him. The waiting room.   
  
"Sir, I'm sorry. We're doing everything we can at the moment." The eldest doctor reassured. Michael sank into a chair, his shaking hands pressed to his face. The bible rested in his lap while through his fingers, the chained cross, hung, glistening with the overhead lights. The doctors all stood in silence as this weary man sobbed. They passed a silent glance to each other as well.   
  
"Sir…?" One doctor stepped up.   
  
Michael lifted his head. Watery optics passed along a womanly figure and stopped at her face.   
  
"Sir. I'm doctor Hensley. Can I speak to you for a moment?" She held out her hand and gave a reassuring smile.  
  
"Please, lets take a walk, sir." He hesitated as he sat up. His eyes moving from that smile to her out-stretched hand. He gradually took it and stood up to follow her. As they passed the other two doctors, Doctor Hensley told the others to return to their tasks of looking after Aya. They nodded to her and watched as Michael and the leading doctor walked down the hallway.  
  
The doctor's began unplugging bits of machinery within the room. The head doctor pulled a sheet over Aya's face.  
  
"Clean this up." He murmured heading for the door to claim the chart. A deep inhale sounded the room as the body beneath the sheet began to stir. The EKG began to beep, startling the nurse. She pulled the sheet from over Aya's face and in a shrilled voice, called for the doctor.   
  
"Doctor! Come quick! She's back! She's back!" The doctrine turned around at the sound of the respirator slowly picking up the rate of air. 


End file.
